Famous Radio Host* Apologizes (*Not Who You Think)

Posted on March 9, 2012 by pastordavesimpson

I’ve never understood the desire to publicly predict the end of the world.  What’s the payoff?  Either you’re wrong and look ridiculous, or you’re right and no one is around to offer their congratulations.

Last year, Harold Camping put himself in the wrong and ridiculous category.  Twice. You remember Mr. Camping, the Family Radio host, who insisted the rapture would occur on May 21.  He offered a summer blockbuster-worthy scenario in which each time zone would experience a great earthquake at 6pm local time, starting at the International Date Line then shaking its way around the world hour by hour.  He said the earthquakes would agitate the dead out of their graves, much to their “disgrace.”  You may remember that Mr. Camping retired to his home on the evening of the 20th, watching TV news so he could see the disaster unfold until he was raptured along with the other 3% of mankind who he said would be saved.  It must have been a long night. The next day he said – in that voice that sounds like the sonic offspring of James Earl Jones and Lurch, recorded at 45 RPM and played back at 33-1/3 – that he was “flabbergasted.”

After further review (like an NFL referee reviewing a play), he decided that what had happened was the end of “God’s salvation program.”  (Is it just me or does that sound like the expiration of a special offer for a fitness club membership?)  Nobody else would be saved, and the world was really going to end on October 21:

Thus we can be sure that the whole world, with the exception of those who are presently saved (the elect), are under the judgment of God, and will be annihilated together with the whole physical world on October 21, 2011, on the last day of the present five months period.

We’re still here.  And so, remarkably, is the 90-year old Mr. Camping, despite having survived both the failure of his prophecies and a stroke.

Even more remarkably – perhaps inspired by that other famous radio host named Rush –  Mr. Camping this week apologized.  Sort of.

In a statement on Family Radio’s website, he writes “Events within the last year have proven that no man can be fully trusted.”  You can say that again!

Some of what he writes is sincere, and solid:

God has humbled us through the events of May 21, to continue to even more fervently search the Scriptures (the Bible), not to find dates, but to be more faithful in our understanding.  We have learned the very painful lesson that all of creation is in God’s hands and He will end time in His time, not ours! We humbly recognize that God may not tell His people the date when Christ will return, any more than He tells anyone the date they will die physically.

But . . . he spends a great deal of his apology insisting that what happened (or didn’t) on May 21 was actually a good thing.  He celebrates that he caused people to pay attention to the Bible who maybe wouldn’t have:

In the months following May 21 the Bible has, in some ways, come out from under the shadows and is now being discussed by all kinds of people who never before paid any attention to the Bible.”

What a bunch of self-justifying hooey!  Camping’s May 21 circus was anti-evangelism.  People only paid attention to him – and to the Bible – who wouldn’t have only to laugh at him – and at the Bible.  Do you think a single atheist heard about Harold Camping’s failed predictions and said, “Wow, I oughta check out the Christianity thing a little more.”

Back in high school, some of my friends and I would watch The PTL Club after school.  We found it funnier than the Gilligan’s Island reruns on at the same time – Jim and Tammy Faye Bakker spinning records backward in search of satanic messages and trying to sell timeshares in their amusement park village and so on.   Do you think that kind of foolishness (even without the inevitable scandal) may have contributed to my increasing cynicism about, and eventual departure from, the church?  Of course.

And what about the people who bought into Mr. Camping’s fantasies and sold everything they had because the world was going to end and they wanted to help pay for the billboards and bus signs and advertisements to warn everyone?  His “apology” says nothing to them.  Nothing about financial assistance from the Family Radio “ministry” that continued to accept donations right up until May 21 even though they really, really believed that the world was going to end.

The root of all this is a problem that extends beyond Mr. Camping and Family Radio and May 21, 2011.  We Christians can spend too much time focused on the End of the World, and especially fussing about its mechanics.  There is way too much written, read, and discussed about raptures and pre-tribs and post-tribs and millenialism and on and on.

Hypothetical Christian readers, let’s get our noses out of the Left Behind books and spend our time and energy letting the world know how much God loves each person, that Jesus came not to condemn the world but to save it (John 3:17).

And hypothetical non-Christian readers, please don’t judge us by Mr. Camping and his ilk.  That would be like judging all rock bands by Hanson.  We’re really not that bad.

Well, actually we are that bad.  Worse, even.  That’s why we need a Savior.

And that’s why we need to forgive even Mr. Camping, no matter how shoddy his apology. Because God in His infinite mercy already has.  Just like he forgave us despite our shoddy apologies and our ever-falling-short lives.

Posted in Christianity, Church | Tagged , , , , , | 2 Comments

Keeping Abreast of Church Controversy

Posted on March 7, 2012 by pastordavesimpson

Maybe it’s because I’m a guy, but I didn’t even know breastfeeding in church was an issue.

I was made aware of the concern by a post on Christianity Today’s Her.meneutics blog: “Breastfeeding in Church, and Other Petty Crimes”  by Rachel Stone.

(Yes, Her.meneutics is “The Christianity Today blog for women,” and I’m well, not a woman.  Sometimes I watch Lifetime too, if they’re showing reruns of The Golden Girls or Designing Women.  I am very secure in my masculinity, thank you very much.)

You really should read Ms. Jones’ post.  Along with well-stated opinion, it includes her recollection of being kicked out of St. Peter’s Cathedral at the Vatican for breastfeeding her baby . . . in front of the Pieta which depicts Mary holding her crucified Son in much the same way she probably did when she was breast-feeding Him.

The post begins with another story closer to home:

A Georgia woman named Nirvana Jenette claims she was kicked out of church for breastfeeding, the pastor ordering her to nurse the baby in the bathroom and calling her behavior ‘lewd,’ comparing her to a stripper.

To which as a fellow-pastor I can only say . . .   What??!!!

If we kick out or make to feel uncomfortable women who are breastfeeding, isn’t the church  just buying into the hypersexualized attitude of our culture?  Aren’t we just totally objectifying women’s bodies in the way we preach against, ignoring the beauty of the God-formed feeding function by limiting our reaction to “breast = sex”?

Also, as a pastor, I notice that church attendance for new moms is often sporadic at best.  I’m sure it’s hard to marshal all the infant paraphernalia and yourself out the door and into the car and into the church.  How much more difficult do we make it if we declare the pews a “no breastfeeding zone.”  Babies don’t always get hungry on schedule; what’s a mom to do when those hunger pangs hit in the middle of the service?

Go to the bathroom?  Gross!  Would you want to have your lunch on a toilet?

Go to the “nursery”? (I guess you could make an argument that the first part of that word is “nurse.”)  Maybe, if that would make HER feel more comfortable, but why enforce a separation from her family and the rest of the congregation for doing something that is loving, and natural . . . and a picture of God’s love for us:

For this is what the Lord says: “I will extend peace to her like a river, and the wealth of nations like a flooding stream; you will nurse and be carried on her arm and dandled on her knees.  As a mother comforts her child, so will I comfort you; and you will be comforted over Jerusalem.” – Isaiah 66:12-13, NIV

See also Isaiah 49:15 and Deuteronomy 32:11-13, 18 (references from Ms. Stone’s post).

If you read Ms. Stone’s post, make sure you scroll through the comments at the bottom.  Most are  supportive, but a few are quite hostile, protesting that exposed breasts (although I don’t think much actual breast gets exposed in discreet breastfeeding) or just the idea of breasts in a church will make men think sexual thoughts.  That sounds more like the men’s problem than the mothers’ – if we men can’t get past our own adolescent Beavis and Butthead-edness (“heh heh heh heh, she said ‘breast!'”) then we need help.  At least prayer-type help.

The comment that really convicted me is the last one on the page:

I accept and love everyone on this earth.  I work hard at my job, do charity work, I pray, dress modestly, support women in breastfeeding and provide for my daughter.  Wow, I sound more Christian than most of you. . . . and I’m Wiccan.

HOSPITALITY has to be at the forefront of our witness as Christians and as the church.  Our in-hospitality doesn’t just affect nursing moms or whomever else we want to keep out of our “pure” worship services, but it clearly affects our witness to the world.  Making church a breastfeeding-free zone is a perfect example of the stuff that made me say, when I was an atheist, “If that’s what Christians are like then I sure don’t want to be one of them!”

But there’s another way.  I once heard a pastor preach about why he didn’t get upset about crying babies in church or even in restaurants.  He remembered the baby Jesus, there in the manger.  No matter what the song says about “no crying He makes,” sure the baby Jesus cried!  How else would He let Mary know when He was hungry or cold or needed His diaper changed?  So whenever a baby cried around that pastor, he thought to himself, “Jesus is here.”

Maybe if we have a nursing mother in our midst – in church or anywhere else – we need to stop and think, “Mary is here.”

(Two notes . . . my particular church is VERY welcoming of young children, but I have no idea what the attitude of the congregation is toward nursing mothers.  I’d be surprised if it was anything but just as welcoming, but I’m going to ask around. 

And note two . . . sorry about the title.  It’s a reflection of how ridiculous I find “some” attitudes, and also of the fact that I couldn’t keep myself from at least one pun . . . just be glad I didn’t milk it any further.  Darn.  There I go again.)

And here’s another pastor’s perspective on breastfeeding in church – http://www.davidhousholder.com/nurse-your-baby-at-my-church/

Posted in Christianity, Church, Pastors | Tagged , , , , | 11 Comments

Ram Tough

Posted on March 5, 2012 by pastordavesimpson

Sometimes this Christian life stuff can be tough.

Friday I was driving my daughter to school.  As usual, we were on the cusp of lateness.  The route is all winding back roads, lightly traveled but with two solid lines dividing the pavement all the way.  There’s nowhere to pass.

About halfway through the usually 15 minute drive I caught up behind a hulking (compared to my little Matrix) Dodge Ram pickup.  It was poking along at just over half the 40 MPH speed limit.  I was stuck.

The driver seemed to be fighting the truck like a novice rider on a horse that wants to gallop.  Every time the pickup’s “speed” inched close to 25, the brake lights would flash a few times as if the driver was sending some sort of Morse Code message.  I think it was “Help me.  I’m afraid to go too fast in this great big truck.”

Remember those old Bugs Bunny cartoons where Elmer Fudd would become infuriated at the rabbit’s antics and red would start down at his feet and then climb through his body like the mercury in a thermometer set in boiling water?  That was me as I helplessly followed that Ram.  And with every flash of the brake lights my stress thermometer climbed higher.

I didn’t tailgate.  I didn’t honk my horn.  I didn’t swerve around and pass illegally.  And it wasn’t just because I was wearing my clerical collar.  Driving is one place where I have really tried to live more like the Christian I claim to be . . . I’ve even preached about it.

But . . . my daughter was going to be late, and there was absolutely no reason to keep me crawling along like that.

To keep ME crawling along.  When we’re angry, it’s all about ME isn’t it?  How can he do that to ME?  Of course, the Ram driver was probably so engrossed in keeping the truck under control that he was totally oblivious to my existence.  Getting angry at him (or her, couldn’t tell from behind and below) was just silly.  It wasn’t going to affect the driver at all.

Then there were those bumper stickers on the back of the truck.  “Jesus loves you.”  “Keep the Ten Commandments.”  And of course a Jesus Fish.

Those preachy pieces of plastic plastered to the truck just made the whole thing more frustrating.

You’ve seen those bumper stickers that say, “In event of rapture, this vehicle will be unmanned”?  Unmanned would have been an improvement.

But the “Keep the Ten Commandments” bumper sticker did get me  thinking.  I remembered what Jesus taught about anger at someone being equivalent to breaking the commandment against murder.  Because God cares as much about what’s going on in our hearts as what we do.

So, I tried to practice what I’ve preached.  I said a prayer.  Not that the truck would break down.  Not that a police car would come by and ticket the driver for unsafe slowness.  But for the driver.

It’s hard to stay mad at someone you’re praying for.

It worked . . . if you define worked as keeping me from enacting any road rage until we finally turned right and the truck didn’t.  Perhaps that was an answer to my prayer.

I’m still working on it, though.  I’m getting frustrated all over again writing this.

Sometimes this Christian life stuff can be tough.

Ram tough.

Posted in Christian Living, Prayer | Tagged , , , , | 1 Comment

Driving Home

Posted on March 2, 2012 by pastordavesimpson

I didn’t know I was on my way back to church – and back to God – as I made the hour drive to Karen’s house.  I thought I was just going on a date, meeting the woman who I had gotten to know over about eight hours of phone conversations after we were given each others’ numbers by a mutual friend.  I really wasn’t looking for a relationship, not with a woman or with God.  Neither had worked out very well in the past.

I had checked out the showtimes of movies I wanted to see at the closest movie theater.  Not that Karen and I were planning to go to the movies – that was my backup plan, in case I gave in to my hesitation and decided to bypass her house.  It was about 50-50 when I had left home where I would end up.

When I pulled up in front of the row that included her townhouse, I was still noncommittal. I didn’t pull into one of the spaces in front of her particular home, but parked down the street a ways.  My first in-person conversation with her was as I walked up to her door.  She told me I had to move my car, the spaces were assigned.  I think she said “Hello” first, but I’m not sure.  It was a strange beginning.  But it was enough for me to know that she was as beautiful as she had seemed on the phone.

Also unusual was my first conversation with her son, who was turning four the next week.  After being introduced, he said, “You want a beer?  Everybody else has one.”  I had never dated anyone with a kid.  If this was how it was going to be, it was going to be okay!

Karen had just gotten back from church.  Church!  Another reason for my hesitation.  I was an atheist, or at least an agnostic, after all.

She wasn’t quite ready to go out.  While she changed, she asked me to change a light bulb above her stairs. I don’t know if that was some kind of test, but I passed in spite of my fear of heights.

I didn’t pass the next test.  Her son asked me for a peanut butter and jelly sandwich.  My experience was with older kids – working as a Juvenile Probation Officer hadn’t given me many opportunities to fix PB&J sandwiches the way a 3-year old would like.  My pride was wounded when he rejected the sandwich.  “Not enough stuff.”

Despite my hesitation to commit and the subpar sandwich, that turned out to be the first of many trips to Karen’s house.  It quickly became clear that if I wanted to date her, I would have to go to church with her.  It seemed well worth the waste of an hour a week – but not wasted because it would be more time with her.  Plus she told me they had a softball team I could play on.

In time, I realized I loved Karen and wanted to spend the rest of my life with her.  Seven months after my first drive to her house, I asked her to marry me.  She said “yes!”  And I asked her son if that was okay.  I guess he’d gotten over the sandwich because he said “yes” as well.

And somewhere in those seven months of going to church, hearing the stuff about Jesus in God’s Word as it was preached and sung and prayed, I realized . . . I believed that stuff.

As surprised that I was to be getting married, I was even more surprised to be joining the church.

Sixteen years ago today, Karen and I were married by Pastor John, the pastor of that church.

And we began our life together in that townhouse to which I had made that hesitant drive one year before.

I was home.

The next Sunday, I officially joined the church.

I was home.

Posted in Uncategorized | Tagged , , | 15 Comments

The Church Is Not Hogwarts – Conclusion: The Big Lie

Posted on February 29, 2012 by pastordavesimpson

The church is not Hogwarts, where we go to learn the right words to say when we want stuff or when we want something to happen.

And I don’t want anyone to get that impression.

When I pray in public, even (especially) in church, I may jot down a few notes, but when it comes time to pray it’s going to be me and the Holy Spirit – hopefully not in that order.  Sometimes it’s going to be a bit (or a lot) rough, but hopefully I’m modelling for those I’m praying for/with that you don’t have to talk to God with perfect grammar, nor do you need to sound like a 17th century Englishman with all the thees and the thous and the verbs with “th” or “st” appended (maketh, givest, etc.)

In the book of Romans, we’re promised not just that the Holy Spirit will guide our prayers, not just that the Spirit will give us words when we pray, but that the Holy Spirit will actually pray for us with groans when what we need to pray about is beyond words.   Now, I don’t think I’ll ever get to the point in church where I’m groaning the prayers (who knows though!), but I strive to rely more and more on the Holy Spirit, and less and less on myself, when I pray.

Christians don’t do a very good job of explaining all that to folks outside the church.  So it’s no wonder prayer looks like superstition – like magical thinking – to them.  One of the biggest problems, I think, is when we tell non-Christians, “I’ll pray for you.”

That’s said to be one of the two biggest lies in the world.  First is “the check is in the mail.”  Second is when a Christian says, “I’ll pray for you.”

Even if we do remember later to pray, when we make that promise then wait until our “prayer time” or worse, if we wait until we get to church, then an unchurched person has no concept of what we are really doing – talking to God out of our hearts, guided by the Holy Spirit, on their behalf.

One of the best pieces of advice about evangelism I got when I was a new Christian was from my wife.  She suggested never to say, “I’ll pray for you.”  Rather ask, “Can we pray together?”

That didn’t happen to me too much when I wasn’t a Christian.

So, hypothetical atheist/agnostic reader, the next time you’re going through a tough time and some well-meaning Christian says, “I’ll pray for you,” why don’t you freak them out by saying, “How about if you pray for me NOW!”  I promise, it’ll be a growing experience for both of you.

What do you have to lose?  If prayer is just superstitious magical thinking mumbo jumbo, then all you’ve lost is a couple of minutes.  And you’ll have had the satisfaction of making that well-meaning Christian at least a little uncomfortable.

And, hypothetical Christian reader, how about taking a chance and trusting the Spirit the next time you’re led to pray for someone?   Offer to pray with them.

What do you have to lose?  Maybe a little pride if you don’t say everything the right way or if they reject your offer?  Well, since pride is the root of all sin, that might not be such a bad thing.  Right?

Posted in Church, Pastors, Prayer | Tagged , , , , | 3 Comments

The Church Is Not Hogwarts – Part One

Posted on February 27, 2012 by pastordavesimpson

(I was recently asked why I pray extemporaneously in church rather than reading prayers I or someone else have written beforehand.  Here’s my answer for Christians and non-Christians . . .)

Speaking  of music on airplanes (which I did in my last post), back when I was an atheist/agnostic I always took my Walkman with me when I flew and I always listened to “The Police: Greatest Hits” when we took off.  There wasn’t anything particularly reassuring about the music itself.   “De doo doo doo, de da da da, all I want to do is talk to you” are certainly excellent lyrics, but they don’t exactly engender courageous flying.  Of course the reason I “needed” to listen to Sting and his mates during takeoff is that I had happened to have that tape in the Walkman for one flight, and we didn’t crash, so . . . why change what works?   It’s like ballplayers who wear the same socks each day – without washing them – when they’re on a hitting streak.

That’s what’s called “Magical Thinking.”  Have you ever had a friend who watched his favorite football team while sitting in THE SAME CHAIR each week eating THE SAME SNACKS wearing THE SAME LUCKY SWEATSHIRT (and underwear)?  I have had such a friend (but I can’t vouch for the underwear).

Magical Thinking.

I used to think (magically?) that Christians were just organized Magical Thinkers.   From the outside looking in, all the ritual of a traditional worship service can look like an attempt to appease an angry God by doing things just the right way.  On the very rare occasions I was in church during my time away, the regimentation of the services both intrigued and repulsed me – now is when we stand up. . . sit down . . . stand up . . . let’s all say the Lord’s Prayer together . . . greet your neighbor . . . swing your partner do-si-do.

Okay, I added that last one.

But you get the idea.  So I understand, hypothetical agnostic/atheist reader, that if you haven’t been to church much what we do there may look, well, strangely like it’s based on Magical Thinking.  Especially the prayers. You might think we believe that if we say them just right then God will give us what we want.  That’s what prayer is about.  Right?

This mistaken impression is why I appreciate what seems to be a movement even in more liturgical churches like mine away from pre-programmed prayers toward more spontaneous pleas to God.  To my ears, when some pastors write out their prayers it sounds as if they are trying to either impress their congregations or, haha, God with their erudition.  (Hypothetical pastors who read this blog, please note that I said “some” pastors . . . surely I’m not talking about you.  Honestly, I am talking about myself as a writer who sometimes falls too much in love with his written words and has to resist the temptation to show off those words.)

Prayer  is not about imposing onto God our own woefully limited ideas about the way things should be.  Prayer is seeking God’s perfect will,  surrendering and pouring out our hearts to God.

For me, emotionally introverted as I tend to be,  public heart-praying is one of the most difficult things for me as a pastor.  I can do the pre-written prayers with flowery language thing with the best of them.   But that’s not how I feel called to pray.  For one thing, I worry that if I focus on getting every word just right in my prayers it will sound like I am engaging in magical thinking – trying to get God to do what I want.

The church is not Hogwarts, where we go to learn the right spells to cast when we want stuff or when we want things to happen.

And I don’t want anyone to get that idea.

(I’ll post the conclusion of “The Church Is Not Hogwarts” on Wednesday.)

Posted in Church, Pastors, Prayer | Tagged , , , | 4 Comments

The Unexpected Pastor’s Oscar Countdown

Posted on February 25, 2012 by pastordavesimpson

I’m usually only posting Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays, but today I saw the last of the 9 films nominated for Best Picture this year and I wanted to get this up before the Oscars Sunday night.   These are not predictions, but my ranking of those 9 nominated films . . .

9. The Descendants

A small independent film often slips into the Best Picture nominations.  This year that film is The Descendants.  I hoped The Descendants would be something like Little Miss Sunshine, which was nominated in 2007 and which I loved.  To paraphrase Lloyd Bentsen, “Descendants, you’re no Little Miss Sunshine.”  Not that I dis-liked this film, but it was easily my least favorite of the 9 nominees.  George Clooney is very good, as are the two girls who play his daughters (although I can do without 10-year olds spouting profanity).  But the story never really grabbed me.  “Sid,” the older daughter’s friend who is supposed to be comic relief, is just annoying.  Was it wrong that I cared more about the fate of the family land than about what happened to the George Clooney character’s wife?

8. Moneyball

I love baseball.  I love baseball movies.  I didn’t love Moneyball.  If Brad Pitt wins the Oscar for Best Actor, or Jonah Hill wins Best Supporting Actor, it’ll be a travesty.  Pitt does overcome his Brad-Pittness, but there’s not the range of emotion in his character that you’d expect from an Oscar winner.  Jonah Hill is, well, Jonah Hill.  I couldn’t believe he was nominated.  As with any screenplay in which Aaron Sorkin is involved, the writing is top-notch.  Perhaps the biggest problem I have with Moneyball is that it gives the impression that Scott Hatteberg was the key to the A’s success, totally discounting Oakland’s excellent pitching staff led by Tim Hudson, Mark Mulder, and Barry Zito (none of whom ever appear in the film).

7. Midnight in Paris

Viewing Midnight in Paris was like eating chocolate mousse.  It was good, I felt happy watching it, but I wasn’t . . . fulfilled.  I had trouble putting my finger on where it fell short until my daughter watched the DVD and said, “It never really developed.  It just got to a point and kept going on the same level from there.”  I agree.  Nothing wrong with a movie that cheers you up, but that’s not enough for a Best Picture.

6. The Help

Another movie I enjoyed watching.  I hope Viola Davis and Octavia Spencer win Best Actress and Best Supporting Actress, respectively.  The revelation of the “special” pie may be the most memorable scene in a movie this year.  But . . . although the movie is valuable for  younger folks by raising their awareness of discrimination , it is too simplistic in its portrayal of race relations in the south to be worthy of a Best Picture award.   However, it could win tomorrow night in the same way that Driving Miss Daisy won back in the 90’s.

5. Hugo

“A magical movie about the magic of movies” is what I posted on Facebook after I saw Hugo.  It’s a beautifully filmed movie with the best 3D since Avatar.  Ben Kingsley was wonderful as the broken, and then renewed, Georges Melies.  Sasha Baron Cohen’s over the top performance as the Station Inspector single-handedly dropped this film from the top three on my list.

4. The Artist

There’s part of me that feels about The Artist much like I did about Midnight In Paris – it’s sort of an enjoyable trifle without a lot of substance.  But, the fact that it sustained the attention of my daughter despite being both black and white AND silent moves it up the list.  Also, the performance of Jean Dujardin in the lead role is hands down the best acting I saw last year.  He “said” more in a single expression than other actors conveyed in a paragraph.  And the dog was wonderful!  The Artist is the first film on this list that I will buy and watch repeatedly.

3. Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close

“The worst reviewed movie to be nominated for Best Picture,” or so I’ve read several places.  Maybe so.  Maybe it was somewhat exploitive of 9/11.  But . . . Max Von Sydow single-handedly raised the level of this film in a performance that should net him the Best Supporting Actor trophy.  His character had depth beyond anything else in the movie, and his performance as a mute character was “extremely loud” . . . it would be wonderful if both the Best Actor and Best Supporting Actor Oscars go to actors who did not speak.  I was much more caught up in this film than I expected, even though Tom Hanks doesn’t have a lot to do and  Sandra Bullock was much better in The Blind Side.  The kid (Thomas Horn) impressed me with his portrayal of Aspergers (or something similar) and not just because he was discovered on Kids Jeopardy.  I was surprised by the revelation at the end, which is always a plus.

2. War Horse

Yeah, it’s manipulative.  But I almost always enjoy being manipulated by the master, Stephen Spielberg (I say “almost always” because there was War of the Worlds . . . and The Terminal . . .  and, well, Always).  War Horse is the kind of sprawling, old-fashioned epic that doesn’t get made much anymore.  It is long, but it never drags.  Characters pop up and then are replaced as the story moves on, but Spielberg always gives you enough to care about them.  I also appreciate its message about the senselessness of war.

1. The Tree of Life

The sushi of movies – you either love it or you hate it.  There’s no in between.  I hate sushi, but The Tree of Life is one of my favorite movies not just of the past year but ever.  It is beautiful, it is spiritual, it is Terrence Malick’s masterpiece. You can read all about it in my very lengthy blog post . . . be warned though that my wife warned me that it would be “the post that’s going to kill your blog.”  She’s in the “hated it” category.  The Tree of Life has no chance of winning tomorrow night, but it may (should!) win in the Cinematography category.  I may celebrate by watching it . . . again.  After Karen goes to bed.

Posted in Arts and Culture, Movies | Tagged , , , , , , , , | 2 Comments

The Church Is Going to Crash!

Posted on February 24, 2012 by pastordavesimpson

“We’re going to crash,” said the man on my plane . . .

For a long time, I rejected faith in stuff I thought was just  too stupid to believe.  But at 30,000 feet I strove to be a believer, first in the miracle of heavier-than-air flight, but second temporarily in God if that didn’t work out.

Isn’t it ridiculous to think that airplanes can fly?  Empty, they look awfully heavy.  With the addition of all the people and luggage and fuel and instrumentation and peanuts for coach and salmon fillets for first class, the law of gravity would seem to insist on a plunge rather than soaring through the heavens.

I was a skeptic of the first degree.  I couldn’t join in the post-Wright Brothers mass delusion.

But I flew anyway.  I was thankful there were plenty of bars in airports.

Back in 1985, I sat in a cramped coach seat on a People’s Express jet.  I was bound for London.  It was my first trip overseas.  That very word made me nervous: 0ver-seas.  On the over-night flight over-seas, if anything went wrong, we’d be under-water.

As the plane backed away from the gate, I tried to muster up the assurance that this 747 – this oh-my-goodness isn’t it a huge (heavy) airplane – could actually achieve and sustain flight for 7 hours.

Yeah right.

Unable to reach that sort of faith in flight, I went with my backup plan – perhaps I could muster up a little faith in He Who Must Not Be Believed In.  Prayer couldn’t hurt. In fact, it would give him – excuse me, Him –  a chance to show Himself powerful, capable, and caring.

They say there are no atheists in foxholes.  There are no atheists among the fearful fliers on an airplane, either, especially when the turbulence starts.  That’s when atheism ratchets down a bit toward agnosticism.  “I’ll say a prayer just in case.”  At least that was my experience.

On this particular flight as we pulled away from the gate there lurked an even bigger doubter than me.  For as we began that big turn from backing out to heading forward toward takeoff – the big turn toward no-turning-back – the Voice of Doubt arose from the cheap seats just behind where I was sitting.

“We’re going to crash.”

The tone of this fellow aeronautical heretic was not anywhere near as matter-of-fact as his simple statement appears on the page.  But it wasn’t full-throated terror, either.  Somewhere between fact and terror was . . . confidence.  Assurance of catastrophe.  His was the proverbial Voice of Doom, reporting the Terrible Truth with only a tremor in his voice to attest to the fact that he was living the disaster, not just observing it.

He proclaimed his Truth once again.  “We’re going to crash.”

As for my nervousness about the flight to London . . . this wasn’t helping.

A flight attendant rushed to the man’s row.  “Sir, you’ll have to be quiet.”

But how do you shut up when you know what you have to say is the anti-gospel truth?

“We have to turn around.  It’s going to crash.”

Now there were some murmurs of annoyance at the prophet.  Someone a row over tried reassurance.  “Come on, let’s get going and we’ll be all right.”  Was this comforter sure, or was he trying to shut down a display that was getting him in touch with his own doubts?

Another voice had a more practical suggestion.  “Somebody buy that guy a drink.”

There was a titter of nervous laughter.  It didn’t affect the oracle at all.  “I know this plane is going to crash.  Please turn around.  At least let me off.”

The flight attendant walked back to a phone that I guess called up to the pilot.  Or maybe it went straight to God.   I didn’t think there was much difference on a plane.

The 747 lurched and groaned to a stop. They weren’t going to mess around.

In a moment we were turning around.

They actually believed this guy?  We were going back to the terminal?

Good.  Maybe I could take a train to London.

We reached the gate, the jetway was reconnected, and it was strongly suggested to the “we’re going to crash” fellow that he get off and perhaps find another way to the Old Country.  All I saw of him was the back of his gray suit as he was escorted up the aisle and off the plane.

They didn’t believe him at all.  He was just an apostate in their eyes.

Planes don’t crash.  Everybody knows that.

Planes fly.  And if you don’t believe it or don’t pretend you do then get lost, we don’t want you around, because you might just cause us to doubt.  And what would happen then?  People won’t fly anymore.  They’ll take the train, or the boat, or they’ll drive.  Or they’ll stay home.  Then what happens to the airlines?  What happens to the economy?  No, we can’t have that because civilization as we know it depends on our ability to get from Boise to Burlington in a few hours.

You know what I thought was crazy about the whole thing?  They didn’t give anyone else a chance to follow the Chicken Little dude.  Just get him off the plane, shut the thing back up, and once again we’re backing toward London.

I wanted to get off.  I really did.  But did I have the guts to stand up in front of the however many hundreds of people a 747 holds (it wouldn’t be on Jeopardy, so I don’t know it) and affirm my own unorthodoxy by following the man in the gray suit?  No way.

But I was imagining the interview with that Survivor who’d just left the plane.  The interview I’d never see because I didn’t follow him to safety; the interview I’d never see because I’d be under-water or maybe washed up on some beach in Nova Scotia – an Unidentified Body speculated to be from the plane crash you all heard about last week – and did you see the interview with the guy in the gray suit?

You’ve seen those interviews.  After every plane crash, the crack reporters from ActionEyewitnessOnYourSideLiveLocalLatebreaking News find some guy – some lucky guy in a gray suit – Mr. “I was supposed to be on that flight but something told me/traffic was just worse that day/my wife had a feeling/my dog looked at me funny” – and interview him.  And we all sit there and watch and think, “Coincidence or . . .” and then the TV is showing the wreckage and  smoke and carnage and always the investigators measuring something or standing around drinking coffee (I imagine them getting to the crash site and barking, “Black, and keep it coming!”) and we’ve forgotten about the guy who was supposed to be on the flight and we start thinking about . . . who?  The people on the Doomed Flight? (It’s always THE DOOMED FLIGHT on the News, in bold letters under that graphic of the cartoon plane spiraling out of control behind the matched set of his and hers anchorpeople.)  Are we thinking about the ex-people who are now squashed charcoal?  Of course not. We start thinking about ourselves and the next time we’ve got to fly and what the pilot said at the end of the last flight about, “Good luck on the most dangerous part of your flight, the drive home from the airport,”- tell that one to the folks on THE DOOMED FLIGHT –  and we wonder if it’s worth the risk.

But, when we need or want or are ordered by our bosses to go, we line up again – I’d say “like lemmings” but, really, what an overused metaphor (and totally done after The Police had commuters “packed like lemmings into shiny metal boxes” in “Synchronicity II”  . . . and according to Wikipedia lemmings aren’t really suicidal) – and we get in the metal birds and take off, hoping that our faith will be rewarded with an uneventful flight and maybe a headset that works on both channels so we don’t just hear the drums and backing vocals on early Beatles stuff that was recorded in diametrically split stereo tracks.

And those who doubt the viability of planes flying through the air shut up about it if they want to stay on the flight so they don’t make the other passengers uncomfortable and get escorted off the plane like the man in the gray suit.

When I was an atheist, one thing that kept me away from churches was that I thought they were like airplanes and I was the guy in the gray suit.  Growing up, I never heard anyone in church express  doubts about faith or the Bible or religion or anything else.  There seemed to be an unspoken Code of Silence.  Or a Code of Conformity.

I used to joke about my fear of flying by saying I believed that since it was obviously physically impossible for heavy aircraft to stay in the air, it must have been the faith of the passengers that kept it from crashing to the ground.  And since I was a doubter, I was dangerous to the whole enterprise.

That’s the way I saw churches – and the Christians who populated them.  Their houses of faith were houses of cards, where any doubt or dissent would result in the whole institution crashing down.  Most of the Christians I met didn’t seem interested in my questions; it was like they just wanted to pound me into submission with their answers.

I suspected that I, like the Voice of Doom on that plane, was just getting them in touch with their own doubts that they didn’t want to admit or deal with.

And I feared that if I ever did set foot in a church, I would just end up like that guy in the gray suit – escorted out the door for the comfort and protection of the true believers.

Posted in Atheism, Church, Prayer | Tagged , , | 2 Comments

Confession BY the Church – Some Thoughts for Ash Wednesday

Posted on February 22, 2012 by pastordavesimpson

Most folks associate Ash Wednesday with individual confession and repentance.  But what about confession and repentance by the church?

One of my favorite chapters in Donald Miller’s Blue Like Jazz (which I was happy to read has been made into a movie) takes place at his college, a school known for its hostility to Christianity.  During a festival full of drunken debauchery, he and some Christian friends decide to set up a confession booth.  But this was to be sort of a reverse confessional.  From the book, here is Miller’s recollection of the conversation that was the genesis of this unusual confession booth:

“Okay, you guys.” Tony gathered everybody’s attention. “Here’s the catch.” He leaned in a little and collected his thoughts. “We are not actually going to accept confessions.” We all looked at him in confusion. He continued, “We are going to confess to them. We are going to confess that, as followers of Jesus, we have not been very loving; we have been bitter, and for that we are sorry. We will apologize for the Crusades, we will apologize for televangelists, we will apologize for neglecting the poor and the lonely, we will ask them to forgive us, and we will tell them that in our selfishness, we have misrepresented Jesus on this campus. We will tell people who come into the booth that Jesus loves them.”

(This whole chapter is available as an online excerpt at the publisher’s website.)

What a great idea!  Instead of pointing the finger of judgment, which is exactly what the unchurched expect from the church, there is acknowledgement that Christians, and the Christian church, are not perfect.

I wish someone had made this kind of confession to me when I was an atheist.

So perhaps on this Ash Wednesday, and on into Lent, we who are the church should be more intentional about admitting the imperfections and mistakes of those who have represented and are representing Christ to the world.

When someone outside the church protests that “the church is full of hypocrites,” perhaps instead of defending ourselves we need to acknowledge that this is exactly true.

I’m a pastor, and I’m certainly a hypocrite.  Ask my kids!  I might preach about patience, but do I always live it?

Like I said, ask my kids.

And when we get done admitting that we don’t always practice what we preach, then we can explain that we are in church because we know how imperfect we are – because we are in desperate need of forgiveness.

And then we can say, “Sure, the church is full of hypocrites.  And there is always room for one more!”

To close this Ash Wednesday entry, here’s another brief quote from Blue Like Jazz:

For so much of my life I had been defending Christianity because I thought to admit that we had done any wrong was to discredit the religious system as a whole, but it isn’t a religious system, it is people following Christ; and the important thing to do, the right thing to do, was to apologize for getting in the way of Jesus.

Amen!

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The Worst Kind of Medicine?

Posted on February 20, 2012 by pastordavesimpson

I wish I’d read the article in yesterday’s Washington Post before I preached yesterday.  I would’ve spent more time on the portion of my sermon that went something like this (I preached from notes not a manuscript therefore “something”):

Sometimes in our zeal to “bring people to Jesus,” or in the pursuit of viewers and contributions by TV evangelists, promises get made and expectations are created about healing that just aren’t Biblical.  “All you have to do is believe in Jesus . . . live your life the way God wants you to . . . pray the right prayers .  . . send your money . . . and He’ll take away all your illnesses and pains.”  But experience tells us that this is not true.  Each of us, unless Jesus comes back in the meantime, is going to die of something.  Sure, Jesus is the Great Physician, God does heal through doctors and medications and technology and natural processes and even miracles, but there comes a time when we or our loved ones just aren’t going to get better.  And when we lead people to believe otherwise, we are selling them a non-Biblical faith that will ultimately disappoint.

We’re all going to die of something.

I would’ve preached more about that if I’d read Our unrealistic views of death, through a doctor’s eyes in yesterday’s WaPost before the sermon.

In this powerful article, Dr. Craig Bowron (who works in a Minneapolis hospital), encourages readers to approach death and dying in ways that are different than are common in our culture.  He writes:

For many Americans, modern medical advances have made death seem more like an option than an obligation. We want our loved ones to live as long as possible, but our culture has come to view death as a medical failure rather than life’s natural conclusion.

This change in attitude has led to life that is lengthened chronologically, but not always enhanced qualitatively.  The desire – the perceived duty – to stave off death by any means necessary has led to the use of “treatments” that do nothing more than prolong dying.  This is Dr. Bowron’s most powerful observation:

At a certain stage of life, aggressive medical treatment can become sanctioned torture.  When a case such as this comes along, nurses, physicians, and therapists sometimes feel conflicted and immoral. We’ve committed ourselves to relieving suffering, not causing it.  A retired nurse once wrote to me: “I am so glad I won’ t have to hurt old people any more.”

I encourage you to read and think about Dr. Bowron’s article.

And then ask – what does our faith have to say about these matters?

Could it be that when we elect to use extraordinary measures to keep our loved ones alive we are stepping beyond the bounds of the Golden Rule?  Whose feelings are we trying to spare by not letting go of a loved one who is suffering?  Sometimes the most loving thing we can say to someone we love in the final stages of life is this: “It is okay to let go.  I will be okay.”  Shouldn’t we ask ourselves, are we prolonging someone’s suffering only to abrogate our own guilt we might feel because we “didn’t do everything?”  (The headline on the continuation of the article inside the paper is “When ‘We Did All We Could’ Is the Worst Kind of Medicine.”)

What kind of healing are we promised, anyway?  Again, back to yesterday’s sermon:

What followers of Jesus Christ are definitively promised is ULTIMATE healing.  The perfect, eternal healing that happens when the work God began in us in our baptism is completed at our death.  That is the assurance we have – not of always-healing in this lifetime but freedom from sickness, pain, and death in eternity.

And, I would add in light of the thoughts Dr. Bowron’s article provoked about letting go of loved ones . . . we are promised not just eternal life but eternal reunion.

It was just over a year ago that I said goodbye to my mom.  What a privilege it was to be there with her along with other family members as she died.  Could we have prolonged her life if we had transferred her to a hospital rather than a hospice?  Sure, but what kind of life would it have been – not just the advanced Alzheimer’s but respirators and feeding tubes with no real hope for mental or physical improvement.  When the time came, we were ready to let her go.  But with the hope – the assurance – that we would see her again.
Posted in Church, End of Life, Medicine | Tagged , , , , | 3 Comments